


run for the hills before they burn

by teeterss



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: M/M, POV Third Person, slow romance between a couple of dads
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 21:32:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teeterss/pseuds/teeterss
Summary: The best thing to do when you think your roguishly handsome but also very, very scary neighbour is following you is to confront him on your own, right?





	run for the hills before they burn

Victor wasn’t paranoid. Then again, that’s probably what all paranoid people thought. He had never really been before now, although, after he had read that really convincing and totally credible online article about toxins in the water supply he had immediately gone out and bought a Brita filter, but that was just taking precautions. And the government was totally listening in on everyone’s conversations, that was just a given fact.

OK, maybe he had some prior history with paranoia, but he wasn’t about _this_. 

The gruff and kinda haggard looking guy from Joseph’s barbecue _was_ following him. Or at the very least, he certainly did pop up at a lot of places Victor also happened to be. He’d seen him too many times hogging a whole table at the back of Coffee Spoon, a large black coffee firmly in hand and shades in place conveniently blocking his eye line. He’d definitely clocked him skulking about in the woods while on a run, suspiciously not in any kind of workout gear. He’d _definitely_ seen him propping up the bar at Jim and Kim’s when he’d gone for some catch up drinks with Craig. And Victor even thought he’d seen him outside the crowded cinema when he’d taken Amanda to see the latest blockbuster, skulking about in the side alley.

Every time this happened, Victor had the feel he was being watched, despite the fact whenever he looked over at the man, he was looking in the other direction.

So maybe it was just because this was a small town and they lived on the same cul-de-sac but also.... the man was totally a spy sent to keep tabs on Victor and his coffee orders.

These not paranoid and total valid thoughts had been eating at Victor for a while, so when he walked into the coffee shop mid morning after doing the shopping run and saw the guy sitting in his usual spot nursing a coffee, Victor decided to finally do something about it. 

The best thing to do when you think your roguishly handsome but also very, very scary neighbour is following you is to confront him on your own, right?

“Hey…ah, Robert, is it?” The man glanced up from his drink and looked vaguely bewildered at seeing Victor standing there.

“Oh, hey….” There was a long pause that didn’t look as if it was going to be filled anytime soon.

“It’s Victor.”

“Victor, right,” Robert sounded couldn’t have cared less what his name was. Victor shuffled awkwardly where he stood looming over his table, his confidence waning a little now he was actually standing in front of the man. This had all the signs of a bad idea, but he wouldn’t give up just yet.

“Hey so, um, listen dude, I’m sorry that I didn’t make more of an effort to reach out and say ‘hi’ after the barbecue. It’s been kinda crazy lately, you know, moving in and stuff, so… better late than never right?” He gave a weak laugh that Robert half grimaced at. “Well, here I am, saying hi now!”

He offered out his hand. Robert looked down at it with the same expression he might give if Victor had just slammed a dead fish down onto the table. After a few painful seconds, he did eventually reach out and clasp it, giving it a very brief shake.

“Yeah... hey.”

Victor cleared his throat and glanced about in the hopes of seeing Mat nearby to come over and save him from his uncomfortableness he’d gotten himself into. Alas, there was no one else in sight.

“So… How’ve you been?”

Robert gave what was pretty clearly a groan of annoyance. Victor could feel the back of his knees begin to sweat. Yeah, this was a really bad idea.

“Look, buddy,” Robert flicked down his shades to peek at Victor over the top with very bloodshot eyes, “I’m way too hungover for… whatever this is right now. I'm only one coffee in and this is a five coffee problem, _at least_. Just... message me later or something? You on that stupid app?”

“Er, yeah.”

“Good. Use it.”

“Cool… cool,” Victor said, nodding in agreement, as if this had been the plan all along. “So I’ll just... talk to you later then?”

“Yeah, you do that.” It was honestly impressive how Robert made that sound like an agreement, a brush off and a threat all at once.

Victor turned to leave, baffled about what just happened, and suddenly aware he’d just agreed to meet up with the guy he was supposed to be accusing of stalking him.

“Oh and hey, Victor!” Robert called after him.

“Yeah?”

“It was good to see you again, buddy.”

 

*

 

“Did you know,” Robert said, slamming down his near empty glass onto the table and starting another titbit that was sure to be equally as terrifying as it was absurd, “that there’s a place in a man's head that, if you shoot it, it will explode?”

“Wow, that’s literally never been true.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely true,” Robert said, narrowing his eyes. “I’ve seen it happen.”

“Did someone leave the bathroom door open, or is it just the nonsense you’re spouting the bullshit I smell?” Victor waved his hand in front of him and pulling a face.

“What are you, a doctor? Any proof I’m not telling the truth?”

“Yeah, I got a PHD in common sense.”

Robert snorted and drained the last of his drink, signalling to the bartender for another round. Against all his better judgement, Victor had actually messaged Robert that afternoon just because it seemed rude not to at this point. After getting no reply, he’d assumed he’d really been given the brush off (or Robert had been given orders from the super spy higher ups that contact with his target was forbidden, it was all coming together) until he’d gotten a string of messages at around eight to meet him at a bar. Again, it’d seemed rude not to go.

That and Amanda had said it was alright.

“OK, how about this,” Robert said, looking Victor dead in the eye with a sincerity that was a little too intense, “did you know that there’s a place in your arm that, if you break, it’ll never heal?”

“Two words: bull and shit.” Victor prodded Robert in the chest for emphasis on each word then paused. “Wait, is that one word or two?”

“Hyphenated, isn’t?”

“It’s one,” Neil the bartender chipped in, not looking up from wiping a glass, clearly taking pity on them. 

“You’re a gem, Neil,” Robert raised his glass to him before turning back to Victor. “Anyway, regardless of how many words it is, ‘bullshit’ this ain’t.”

“Oh come on,” Victor rolled his eyes to high heaven. “Where’s your proof that it’s true, hm?”

“I damn well know it’s true because it happened to me.”

“It happened to _you_?”

“That’s what I said.”

“So if I poked either of your arms right now, you’d scream in agony because one of them is still broken?” Oh, he totally had Robert on this one.

Robert held his gaze defiantly for a moment, not willing to concede just yet until “....Fuck.”

“Didn’t think that one through, did you?” Victor patted him sympathetically on the very much unbroken arm.

Robert slumped in his seat, looking a little shocked. “I’m usually better at this.”

Victor’s eyes swept over the empty glasses that surrounded them. “Well, you have had, like, four whiskies.”

Robert surveyed his current glass a little bleary eyed as if checking the contents were still there. “More like... nine? I never really sobered up from last night, just kept on truckin’.” He made a motion with his arm like a plane taking off then chuckled.

“That’s… wow, that’s…” A red flag. “Pretty hardcore.” 

Robert shrugged in a ‘whatdaya gunna do’ sort of way and drained his current glass.

Despite Robert’s eccentricities, Victor was actually having a pretty good time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d stayed at a bar for more than one quick drink, just chatting about nothing. Literally nothing; he didn’t think Robert had said one true thing to him all night. Weirdly, it was endearing instead of maddening.

“Y’know, you’re a lot less gullible than most people around here.” Robert surveyed him with an appraising look that made Victor fidget. “I usually get them with the arm thing.”

Victor felt a little hot around the ears. For once being a smartass had actually gained him approval instead of exasperation. “Well, I guess I got used to weeding out nonsense stories as part of my old job.” Kind of like the story of your neighbour being a spy.

Victor suddenly felt rather stupid for his earlier suspicions (even if they were totally valid) but still a lingering, tiny doubt remained. Robert was definitely enigmatic enough to be a spy and the whiskey was helping to back up his argument.

“Robert, if I ask you something will you try to answer honestly, or are you physically incapable at this point?”

Robert swirled his drink in his hand as he stared contemplatively into the distance, as if giving the question serious thought. “I may be too far down the irony rabbit hole, but hey, try me.”

“OK, well, I guess there really isn’t a tactful way of asking this so I’m just going to go ahead say it; are you, or have you ever been, a spy?” He was half expecting Robert to burst out laughing or at least give a mocking snort. He definitely was not expecting what actually happened. 

Robert’s face crumpled, a look of vacant horror appearing in his suddenly wet eyes . He ran a hand down his face and glanced about the bar before leaning in to Victor to whisper in a low voice. “You gotta promise- I need to you promise me this stays between us.”

“Y-yeah sure thing, Robert,” Victor stammered, a little thrown but how serious things had now gotten.

Robert worried his lip between his teeth for a moment before he continued, his voice cracking. “They got me young. I was dumb, reckless, thought it was a good way to see the world, y’know, see real exciting shit. What I actually saw… you can’t imagine. The things they had me do. It gets to the point where you don’t even know what’s you and what’s what they made you. This last job… I tried to refuse, I finally said no to them. When I left the reconditioning room three days later, I knew never to question them again.”

Robert reached out with shaking hands for his drink and finished it with one swig. 

“Jesus… Jesus Christ, Robert,” Victor reached out a hesitant hand, then patted him on the shoulder. “I had no idea… I just thought…”

“Aayyyy!” Robert laughed, flashing Victor a wink and a finger gun, all traces of the horror on his face completely gone.

“What the fuck?”

“Man, I take it back, you are gullible as hell.”

“That was an act?”

“‘Course it was an act,” Robert chuckled, wiping at his eyes. “I’m not a goddamn spy! What would I spy on? Craig’s workout routine?”

“You fucker, I was really feeling sorry for you,” Victor thumped him on the arm, feeling both betrayed and embarrassed, and Robert just giggled. “I was about to go get some of my savings to get you out the country to start a new life!”

“Hey, that’s a nice thing you’d hypothetically do for me, thanks buddy,” Robert said, trying to be serious again but there was still a hint of a smile. “But I needed to make up for before and get my fake out skills back on track. I had to go hard or go home.”

“Well, that was some serious acting,” Victor said, impressed despite himself. “You could be on stage. Clooney eat your heart out.”

“Clooney’s a punkass bitch,” Robert snorted. “He’s all looks no substance, give me Anton Walbrook any day.”

Victor raised an eyebrow. Who would have thought the guy who was still drunk mid-morning on a weekday would be so cultured? “I’ll take your word for it, I know jack shit about film.”

“You don’t know who Anton Walbrook is?” Robert looked like Victor has just slapped him.

“Should I?” Victor asked, almost hesitantly.

“God, I have a lot to teach you.” Robert shook his head in despair. “Hey, anyway, why’d you even think I was a spy in the first place?”

Unfortunately the whiskey didn’t numb the deep embarrassment Victor was still currently feeling and only abetted his blushing problem. “I, ah, saw you around a lot and thought it was a little odd, so naturally my first thought was that you were there to keep tabs on me and/or kill me.”

“Of course,” Robert nodded like that was a totally normal line of thinking. “And you didn’t consider it might have anything to do with us living in what could possibly be the smallest town in America?”

“Don’t bring such ugly things as logic into this, Robert.”

Robert grinned in what could only be described as a fond way. “And what would you have done if I really was a spy sent to kill you? Think you could take me, hu?”

“Mock all you like,” Victor sniffed indignantly, “I could get as wild as any back in the day.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear. OK, come on, finish up your drink, we’re outta here.”

“We’re going home?” Victor asked, feeling surprisingly disappointed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually not been excited at the prospect of getting out of interacting with people who weren’t Amanda or on the TV.

“What? Nah, we’re just going onto the next place.”

“I dunno, Robert,” Victor checked his watch seeing it was already nearing eleven. He still had Amanda’s lunch to prepare for the morning. “Two is usually my limit.” 

“Come on,” Robert leaned in, a dangerous grin tugging at his lips, “you still got a little wild in you?”

Victor was certain in that moment there wasn’t a man or woman alive who could turn down Robert after he said that. Amanda could just buy lunch tomorrow, he supposed.

 

*

 

After that night the constant appearances of Robert everywhere seemed to stop. Victor saw him once or twice getting into his car but he’d been too busy either bringing in his shopping or rushing off on errands for more that a quick wave.

He’d messaged him the day after the drinks to say thank you and that they should do it again sometime. He hadn’t heard back.

Every other night when he was kicking back with Amanda watching tv, he’d toy with his phone, write out a few messages but ended up deleting them all. He didn’t want to trouble the guy, he clearly seemed busy. The small blue lettering spelling out ‘read’ under his old message always winked up at him, mockingly, knowing far more than he did.

When a flurry of messages awoke him in the middle of the night over a week later, his happiness of being back on Robert’s radar just about outweighed his annoyance of being woken up. Just about.

 

*

 

“Y’know, I don’t actually know that much about monsters, really,” Victor confessed into the easy silence as they drove back into town.

“Buddy, I’m going to be real with you for a second,” Robert glanced away from the road ahead to look at Victor with utter sincerity, “this could be a deal breaker for our friendship.”

“Aw, don’t be like that.” Victor gave him a playful shove. Robert grinned and tried to squeeze Victor’s shoving arm with his free hand but Victor wiggled free. “I know the basics. Like Dracula and… Godzilla?”

“I’m trying really hard to not get offended here, Victor. They’re not even cryptids.” Robert shook his head in despair. “I could look past your lack of knowledge on cinema but this is hard to forgive. Why’d I even keep you around?”

“I don’t know,” Victor sighed, picking at the bandage on his thumb. “You must have seen that sweet coupon for $1 off value packs of oatmeal in my wallet the other night and wanted to get up in that hot action.”

Robert laughed, the flash of the passing street lamps lighting up his face every other second, not a trace of the earlier melancholy present on his handsome features. “That must be it.”

Victor felt a swell of affection for the man and suddenly wanted very much to keep that look of happiness on his face for as long as he could.

“OK, how about this hot take,” Victor straightened up in his seat to indicate he meant business. “The creature of the black lagoon is really just the Loch Ness monster and wolfman’s lovechild? I could present you with some facts I made up this second if needed, to backup my claim and win back some respect in your eyes.”

Robert laughed again and Victor felt his stomach do a little flip. “Well first of all, the creature of the black lagoon is a fictional character from a movie--”

“That’s just what they _want_ you to think!” Victor interrupted. 

“ _Second_ of all,” Robert continued, a small smile on his lips, “that might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever said.”

Victor laughed, feeling suddenly very hot under the collar. “Guess I know the way to your heart now. I’ll have to try to resist against using this power for evil.”

“Yeah,” Robert glance over to him, his eyes strangely soft. “I guess you’ve got some idea.”

 

*

 

The next time Victor saw Robert was a lot less romantic than a midnight car ride.

“You know this ain’t your yard, right?”

Victor turned from where he was listlessly pushing a lawnmower around Brian’s front garden to greet Robert, who was ambling down the street towards him, hands in pockets and a smirk on his lips.

“Yeah, I know, this is how I get my summer pocket money,” he said, wryly.

“Smart, I’ll let you trim my hedges for a couple of bucks.”

“You throw in some lemonade and you got yourself a deal.”

Robert snorted and leaned up against Brian fence, looking far more cool than he had any right to be. “So, got yourself mixed up in Brian’s Best Dad competition too, hu?”

“The man’s like a machine,” Victor sighed, wiping sweat from his brow and squinting at Robert against the orange setting sun. “It’s like he was specifically built to be an unstoppable fathering force.” 

“Yeah, you just gotta not rise to it. He only does it with guys who he thinks are actually rivalling him in a being the world’s bestest daddy, so you should take it as a compliment. Obviously he never tried it with me.”

Victor laughed a little awkwardly, not really knowing how to react to that. “So, you heading out?”

“Yup, figured I should catch some daylight before the sun disappears completely. Come with me and ditch this.” He gave Brian’s impressively large mower a little kick with a scuffed boot.

“I can’t just leave, I made a pact I cannot break! It goes against my honour!” Victor clutched his heart dramatically and Robert scoffed. 

“Whatever, what did he make you do? See who could fold the laundry the fastest?”

“Mini-golf actually,” Victor confessed a little sheepishly. “I’m remarkably shit at mini-golf, I don’t know why I agreed.”

“So the odds were stacked against you! That’s not a far bet. Let’s just go now, you’ve done most of it.”

“Robert, when you’re filled with such high moral integrity as I am, you need to find other ways to rebel. For example, instead of ditching my responsibilities, I’m just doing a really hashed job of his corners. Look, they’re a mess.”

“Wow, James Dean eat your heart out,” Robert deadpanned. 

“Exactly.”

“Well, when you and your green fingers are done, meet me in Jim and Kim’s. We’re out drinking tonight.”

Victor checked his watch then pulled a face. “I don’t know, I’ve been at this for hours, I’m a pretty shattered. Plus I’m a hot, stinkin’ mess.” He plucked at his sweat slicked t-shirt that was clinging to him. “I gotta shower after this, then make Manda’s dinner. Think I’ll sit tonight out.”

Robert shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Victor felt strangely guilty as he watched Robert start to leave.

“But hey, maybe we can do something this weekend?” 

“Yeah, maybe,” Robert said with a wave. As he watched him go, Victor had the feeling then he wasn’t going to hear from Robert for at least another week again.

Later that night, Victor was taking out the garbage just before heading to bed when he saw Robert’s automatic porch light flick on a house over. Robert must be coming home after his night of drinking. Victor felt another pang of guilt for not joining him, and had thoughts of calling out to wish him a goodnight until he saw that Robert wasn’t alone.  
The dim light illuminated the figure of Robert tugging another man along seemingly by the belt. They stumbled along, laughing, before tumbling into the house together. The sound of the door slamming made Victor jump.

He walked back into the house and sagged against the closed door, feeling weirdly hollow. It took a few minute for him to realise he still had the black bin liner in his white knuckled grip.

 

*

 

Victor struggled up the crest of what seemed like the steepest hill on Earth, his lungs threatening to catch fire with how much they burned. Craig was already at the top, stretching his quads out on a bench, not a hair out of place. The beautiful bastard. Victor staggered over to the seat, never having seen a more beautiful salvation.

“I thought you said this was going to get easier?” he gasped out when he’d gotten his puff back.

“It is, bro!” Craig said earnestly, clapping him on the sweaty shoulder. “Your recovery time is already way better than it was when you first started!”

“If you say so.” 

However much it didn’t feel like it at the moment, training with Craig was doing Victor the world of good. And not just physically. He hadn’t realised how much he had missed his best friend in the years they had been apart. He’d missed his ever present enthusiasm, he boundless energy (that was now direct to more worthwhile causes than planning bar crawls), his kindness, his humour, and perhaps most of all, just how easy it was to talk to him. 

“This might just be the endorphins talking here, but it’s really good to be hanging out with you again, dude,” Victor said, accepting the smoothie Craig handed him.

“I’m thinking that’s the endorphins,” Craig laughed, taking the seat next to him, “you never could handle your highs.”

“Hey,” Victor whined, mock offended. “Debby Wang’s party was a one off, I can handle my-” he glanced down at River and her delicate baby ears “-‘candies’.”

“Bro, you took one ‘candy’ and thought the world was ending. I had to take you home, it was embarrassing.”

“Well, that was freshman year, and luckily I had you around to improve my tolerance to them considerably.” 

“Bro,” Craig place his hand over Victor’s, his voice suddenly serious, “you are so very welcome.” 

Victor shoved him, grinning, feeling better than he had done all week. But, as sad thoughts are want to do, just thinking about why he hadn’t been feeling so hot let the gloom creep back in and brought him all the way down again.

“So, you know Robert, right?” he ventured as casually as he could muster, hoping that the abruptness of his question wouldn’t appear odd to Craig.

“Robert?” Craig asked, sounding a little puzzled. “As in the guy who lives on our street, Robert?”

“Yeah, I’m not talking about Robert Pierzynski, who always wore a snapback and dropped out final year.”

“Dude! I totally forgot about him!” Craig laughed. “Whatever happened to him?”

“Dunno, I got a facebook friend request from him a few years back but denied it.”

“Oh, that was the right call.”

“Bad vibes, right?”

“Oh, the worst! Probably sent that request from the prison computer.” They both snickered childishly. “But anyway, yeah, I know Robert. Why’d you ask?”

“I dunno.” Victor fiddled with the cap on his smoothie, feeling a little awkward. “I’ve just hung out with him a few times and he seemed cool, but I guess I just wanna know if he’s a good guy, y’know?”

“Oh, he’s a good guy, don’t worry. Ignore that whole scary, tough guy routine he does. He’s a softie.” Craig gave a flippant wave before chugging his drink.

“It seems pretty real to me, dude. The man carries a knife.”

‘For whittling, bro. _Whittling_.” Craig gave him a pointed look as if that settled the matter.

Victor snorted. “Yeah, you got me there. I guess he just seems a little… intense at times. Does some questionable stuff.”

Craig glanced about then leaned in with a hushed voice “Well, it was before my time, but Joseph told me he suffered a loss in recent years, one that was pretty close to home, so that’s probably the cause. Can’t really blame the guy for going off the rails a little.”

“Oh sh-” Another glance at sweet baby River- “‘ugar. I didn’t know. Damn, that poor guy.”

“Yeah, I don’t think he likes people knowing so probably best you don’t repeat that.”

“My lips are sealed, dude.”

“But hey, we’re not here to gossip!” Craig said, leaping to his feet with energy Victor both envied and feared. “We’ve still got to get down again, yet.”

Victor groaned, wishing he could just melt and become one with the bench. After Craig finally prised him from it, he spent the rest of their workout thinking of Robert alone in his empty house.

 

*

 

It was Friday night and Victor was bored out of his mind. He was sprawled out on the sofa, channel hopping so fast the screen just became a blur of images. Amanda was out at a sleepover with some new friends she’d made at her after school photography class, friends that she’d assured were nicer than her old ones. That meant he was left to fend for himself for entertainment tonight and honestly, he was struggling.

Victor never, for one moment, regretted giving up his career to take care of Amanda, but he did notice the gap in the rest of his life her absence always highlighted.

He’d texted Craig to see what he was up to but he was, of course, busy. There was always the possibility of reaching out to some of the new people he’d met on the block, but he was in the awkward middle stage with most of them that he didn’t exactly feel like it was proper etiquette to just text them last minute for a meet up. He’d briefly considered messaging Robert, but he still felt irrationally awkward about getting in touch with him.

After watching a bad movie that was already half way through for a while, he switched the whole thing off. Apathy had won out over the effort it took to find something interesting to do and he decided just to go to bed.

He was halfway up the stairs when he heard a loud banging on the door.

He paused on the step. “Amanda?” His stomach dropped as his mind helpfully provided a list of dozens of horrific reasons for someone to be urgently knocking at his door at one am.

“Yeah, daddy it’s me,” a rough, giggling voice called back. “Open up.”

“Robert? What the hell?” He pulled open the door and sure enough, a slightly swaying Robert stood on the other side.

“Daddy, I’m home,” he said in an incredibly slurred, sing-song voice.

“Jesus, Robert, you’re completely wasted!” 

“Am I?” Robert then hiccuped loudly as if answering his own question. He was looking a little worse for wears, his usual ruggedly sexy look going a few steps closer to homeless chic. His jacket was hanging off one shoulder, as if there had been an attempt to pull it off completely but Robert have given up halfway. His shirt was soaked with what Victor could only hope was a drink of some kind, and his usually messy hair looked as if someone had tried to brush it with a hurricane. 

“Are you… in trouble or something? You need money for a cab?” Victor peered into the street behind Robert but it was deserted. Robert would probably be thankful Victor was the only audience to this in the morning. 

“No, silly!” Robert chuckled and leaned up against the doorframe, staring down at Victor with heavy eyes and a crooked smile. “You always think the worst. That little mind of yours is always ticking away, isn’t it?”

“Well, you know what they say about pessimists; you’re never disappointed.” Good old self deprecating humour had never let Victor down in an uncomfortable situation before. This was definitely not how he was expecting to see Robert again. At least he was probably too drunk to notice Victor was currently wearing stained sweats and a ratty old t-shirt.

“Listen, Robert, it’s pretty late. You probably just wanna head home and sleep this off --”

“Oh no!” Robert interrupted loudly making Victor cringe. He tried to shush him, glancing anxiously at the neighbouring houses. “You brushed me off last time,” Robert continued in a thankfully slightly quieter voice. “You’re not getting out of some fun tonight, you’re coming out with me _now_!” He went to grab Victor’s hand but instead lost balance and lurched forwards. Victor had to dart out quickly to catch him by the chest before he collided into him.

“OK, it’s definitely time for bed for you, pal,” Victor said, in his best ‘stern father’ voice.

“Only if you tuck me in,” Robert breathed against Victor’s neck where he was still pressed up against him. 

“If you’re good, I’ll even read you a story. Come on.” Victor slung one of Robert’s arms over his shoulder and heaved him up, almost dragging him along with him as he made their way in the direction of Robert’s house.

By the time he dumped Robert’s drunk ass onto his couch, Victor was utterly shattered. His already shameful t-shirt had a few very fetching sweat stains and he was wheezing almost as heavily as he usually did after a workout with Craig. Luckily, Robert had vomited in his own driveway on the walk over, so Victor still wasn’t the most disgusting out of the pair of them.

“You need something before I go, like a bucket?” Victor got out between gasps from where he sat doubled over, perched on the sofa’s armrest.

“What happened to you tucking me in?” Robert slurred, his mouth smooshed up against the cushion he was laying on.

“I said I would if you were good. You were sick inches from where I was standing and I’m not wearing shoes, you think that constitutes as being good?”

Robert made a valiant attempt at rolling over to his back, trying to free himself from the cushion threatening to smother him, but ended up just flopping over onto his side. “C’m over here ‘n’ I’ll make it up to you.”

Victor thought he was doing a rather commendable job at not blushing at some of the remarks Robert was putting out there tonight. “How about you try to get some sleep instead?”

Robert mumbled something incoherent then giggled to himself. Despite everything, Victor found it rather charming. 

“Right, I’m getting you some water then leaving you to it.” He got up and immediately tripped over a dark shape of something on the floor. He hadn’t managed to find the light switch when he’d first dragged Robert in, so he now had to fumble in the dim light over to the wall in search for it.

When the room was eventually flooded with light, Victor thought it a damn miracle he hadn’t broken his neck yet. The room was a mess; littered with clothes, empty bottles and take out boxes. There was even what looked like dog toys in the corner despite there being no sign of an actual pooch.

A groan came from the sofa, “Turn it off!”

“I think that’s probably best for the both of us.” The night was certainly showing a different side to Robert. Was it possible to still find the man all kinds of hot after Victor has seen the conditions he lived it? Was this the end of his neighbouring crush?

Robert gave a small hiccup, which he then giggled at.

Nope, Victor was definitely still very much into him.

Sighing, he flicked on his phone’s torch and went in search for a drink in the house that wasn’t alcoholic. The kitchen was perhaps in an even worse state than the living room, which was a feat both impressive and disgusting. Victor eventually found a mug that wasn’t filled with cigarette butts and filled it with water from the tap.

“There,” he said, setting it down in front of Robert, “I want you to drink the whole thing. Trust me, you’ll thank me.”

“Don’t need it,” Robert mumbled, sounding like was already half asleep. “You think this is the first time I’ve gotten drunk?”

“Oh, so you know all about the doozy of a hangover you’ve got in store? Come on, this’ll make things a little less terrible in the morning. Sit up.” 

Robert’s stubbornness was powerful, but it had nothing on Victor when he was in Dad Mode. He helped Robert sit up just far enough that he could take sips without the risk of choking. After a while of sipping happily, Robert appeared to realise what he was doing and batted Victor's hand away to do it himself.

Victor chuckled, finding drunk Robert far more appealing now he wasn’t so… assertive. Suddenly, he didn’t want to leave. It seemed sad to leave Robert all alone in this squalor. “Robert, I mean this in the nicest possible way, and I’m really only saying it because I’m pretty sure you won't remember, but, my god, your house is disgusting.” 

Robert gave a bleary appraisal of the dimly lit room, “Yeah, I guess it is.” He sounded a little more sober now, the water seemingly already working it’s natural wonders.

“Y’know, if you want, I could come over and help you clean round a little. I’ve had eighteen years training raising Manda, I know how to handle messes.”

Robert lifted his neck awkwardly to squint at him. “Why in the hell would you wanna do that?”

Victor shrugged, not really knowing why he’d offered. Robert just seemed like he needed a little help at the moment and cleaning seemed like the least awkward way of providing some. “Well, it would count as part of my community service. I racked some hours up after I ran that old lady over.”

Robert snorted. “You didn't kill her, did you?”

“They say her heart stopped for a while, so only a little bit.” 

Robert laughed again, which then turned into a yawn. “Well, if you’re mad enough to wanna try. Feel free.” His eyes looked like they were fighting a losing battle against staying closed for good and Victor knew it was time for him to leave.

“OK, man, I’ll message you about it tomorrow. We can set something up.” He patted Robert’s knee then stood. “You get some rest now.”

He was just at the door when Robert stopped him with a mumbled, “Victor?”

“Yeah?” Victor said, turning to look at the back of the sofa. At this angle it looked strangely too small for Robert to fit on.

“You’re coming back, right?”

Victor smiled even though Robert couldn’t see. “Yeah, Robert, I’m coming back. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight.” Victor didn’t get a reply and just before he closed the door behind him, he heard the faint sounds of Robert snoring.

**Author's Note:**

> No beta so sorry for any mistakes.


End file.
